Title: In the Cards
Disclaimer: I own nothing in here, except the dating ineptitude, alas.
Author's Note: I wasn't originally going to write the diner "date," but after a couple of reviewers mentioned they'd like to read it, I thought, why not? Then, of course, it turned out to be absolutely pivotal, which just goes to show you guys are smarter than I am. Thanks for your help!
Chapter 5
Two hours later, Jane found himself greatly enjoying the look on Lisbon's face when the waitress set a mug of hot chocolate with a small mountain of whipped cream down in front of her. That, along with the fact that she'd ordered pancakes, was a big flashing danger sign, and he resolved to remain quiet until she'd drunk at least half the mug. He was also very careful not to get caught staring at the way the dress tightened across her chest when she moved. It was obvious there was no bra under there, and he was very curious about Lisbon's other wardrobe choices tonight.
He was also somewhat startled to notice, now that they were in a well-lit place, that she was wearing the emerald earrings. Wearing a gift from him on a date with another man? And not just any date. It was now glaringly apparent that this evening was meant to be THE date. Conflicted much, Lisbon? he thought.
A new and startling thought hit him: Maybe she really was. Was she waiting for him? Despite the fact that she had to know he had nothing to offer her but heartbreak? It was an absurd idea, but Lisbon had been absurd before when it came to him, by any objective measure. The things he'd convinced her to do sometimes surprised even him.
The problem was, she couldn't say the same. He wondered if she ever pondered the ever-growing pile of his debts to her. Maybe she secretly thought he owed her whatever he had to give. He didn't disagree with that, necessarily. After all, he owed the man he was today to her. She'd made him clean himself up, showed him how he could use his skills to wrangle a place with the CBI and help hunt Red John, and taken as much care of him as he permitted. In return he occasionally brought her coffee and bear claws and coaxed her into eating at diners late at night instead of trying to resume her date. Not that she'd shown any sign of wanting to do that. What was up with her and Mancini? He was beginning to think he needed to know.
The waitress set their food on the table, and Lisbon immediately poured maple syrup on her pancakes until they were swimming in it. Jane watched in fascination as she popped the first dripping forkful into her mouth. She was definitely feeling in need of comfort. Or...
Ah. Of course. He wanted to smack himself for blatant stupidity. She had gotten all dressed up with the expectation of having sex and hadn't even managed to get a nice dinner. No wonder the air around her was practically shimmering with frustration.
As a purely hypothetical exercise, he began thinking about the sequence of "accidental" touches that would push her over the edge. He bet he could get her to make a move on him in less than ten minutes after they finished eating. Not that he would, of course. There was no "reset" button after that, and he didn't dare add yet another stress fracture to their relationship. There had to be a limit to what she would endure, and he had almost no chance of fulfilling his goal if she washed her hands of him.
Of course, another part of his brain was quick to point out that maybe she deserved a good memory or two to call up when things ended badly for him, as they were almost certain to do. Maybe she'd find some comfort in not having to wonder what they would have been like together. He had to admit, now that he thought about it, he'd like to have the answer to that question to take with him into whatever fate awaited. He'd already given up his self-concept of Angela's faithful widower as part of his quest, a reason he was certain his wife would have hated. Surely it was less of an insult to her memory for him to be with someone he actually cared about, someone who was helping him? And it wasn't like sleeping with Lisbon was going to make that target on her back any bigger.
He was rationalizing, he knew. The plain truth was, he couldn't allow himself to seduce her. If he did, she'd always wonder if he had an ulterior motive, and he never wanted her to think he'd use her that way. If it was ever going to happen, it had to be her idea.
He turned his attention back to his plate and realized his eggs had gone cold. It seemed depressingly like a metaphor.
mmm
Lisbon felt better as she scraped the last of the syrup off her plate. The evening hadn't gone even remotely as planned, but it wasn't like anything in her life ever did. And this case didn't seem to have caught Jane's interest, so maybe they could solve it without the threat of lawsuits.
And those were some damn good pancakes. Jane always found the best diners. Plus, she could eat what she wanted and not obsess about her table manners, since this wasn't a date. With Jane, she didn't have to wonder how the evening was going to end, or what he was thinking. Though she'd love to know the latter, she could at least be sure it was not about getting her into bed.
"Something wrong with your eggs?" she asked. He'd hardly touched them, staring at his plate as if it were a message from Red John.
He blinked, glancing up at her for an instant with an odd light in his eyes. "The consistency is good, but they're not very tasty. I think the cook went too easy on the butter," he replied.
"That's too bad. The pancakes were great," she said. "Do you want to order something else?"
"You don't want to try picking up where you left off with Mancini?"
She scowled at him. "If you don't mind, I'd prefer to take dating advice from someone who actually dates."
He nodded. "Fair enough. I'd like to point out that I wasn't offering advice, though. I was merely trying to make sure I wasn't interfering with any plans you may have."
"Right," she scoffed. "Because you normally care so much about my plans."
He pretended to give her comment some thought. "When they don't interfere with mine, I'm happy to let you carry out your own plans," he said.
She wrinkled her nose at his blatant patronization, then picked up a sugar packet and bounced it off his forehead.
Jane grinned. "If you wanted to have a food fight, you should have done it before licking your plate clean." He picked up a forkful of egg and contemplated potential trajectories.
"I am armed," she said darkly. If he dared get egg on this dress, he would pay. Dearly. For more than just the dry cleaning bill.
"Really? Where are you hiding it in that dress?" he asked, amused.
"If you make me draw, I'll definitely shoot," she retorted.
He chuckled, not taking her threat seriously. "No jury would convict you. In fact, any local judge would throw the case out and give you a medal."
"Probably," she agreed. "But the paperwork would be a bitch."
"Saved by paperwork. Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd say. You need pie."
"Huh?"
"Chocolate pie. You need some. And while you're eating that, I think I'll get something else."
Chocolate pie did sound good, she thought, so she didn't protest as Jane waved the waitress over and ordered for them both. He pulled out his most charming smile while he did so, and in no time Lisbon had a large slice of chocolate pie and Jane was grinning in delight at a similarly huge slice of apple pie a la mode, with an extra scoop of ice cream.
"That's what you're having for dinner?" came out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
"It's nutritious," he replied. "Fruit and dairy." He put the first piece in his mouth and chewed, making approving noises.
Lisbon took a piece of her own pie and closed her eyes, savoring the decadence of it. This was going a long way toward redeeming the evening. She should institute a new rule that Jane had to take her to a diner for pie every time he generated extra paperwork. No, she realized, she'd end up weighing 300 pounds.
The cold plop on her chest made her open her eyes and grab for a napkin, trying to catch the blob of whipped cream that had fallen off the fork before it hit her neckline. She wasn't quite fast enough, so she pulled her dress out of the way and blotted the mess off her breast. Good thing this isn't a date, she thought, lifting her head to glare at Jane, sure he was laughing at her.
But he wasn't. He was staring at her chest, his eyes glazed over. Lisbon quickly readjusted her dress, feeling her cheeks heat up. She was so used to thinking of Jane as impervious to all things sexual that she was still trying to wrap her head around the revelation that he wasn't. She needed to be more careful, she thought. The man didn't look like he could get to his feet if his life depended on it.
Although she had to admit it was a heady sensation to be the one in control of the situation, even temporarily. What would Jane do if she slipped her foot out of her shoe and slid her toes up his calf? Spontaneously combust? Come up with a witty remark about how desperate she must be to hit on him? Call for the check, drag her out into the alley, and have a quickie up against the wall? That last idea made her toes curl, but it wasn't realistic. She'd never have sex in an alley, and Jane would know that, whichever head he happened to be thinking with.
The further implications of that thought made her mouth go suddenly dry. He knew her, probably better than anyone. He was an expert at manipulating people, even ones he'd just met, and he'd had years to study her. She had absolutely no doubt that all those little details filed away in his memory palace in the little room devoted to her would make him a spectacular lover. He'd know exactly how to touch her, what to say, what not to do or say. There'd be no fumbling, no hesitation, no asking her to articulate anything. God, she wanted to know what it would be like. Just once.
Because in the morning, all that focus and effort would evaporate, and she'd once again take second place to his obsession. He'd be his usual cocky, unreachable self, and she'd be left with memories that would probably make every single sexual experience in her future seem a pale imitation. Would it be worth it?
Was it even a realistic possibility? Just because she'd accidentally turned him on didn't mean he had any intention of following through. If he thought sex with her might somehow endanger his hunt for Red John, nothing she could do would change his mind. He knew her well enough to know that she would be an adult about it, though, surely?
He finally managed to raise his eyes from her chest, and their gazes met and locked.
Holy shit, she thought. Yes, it was definitely a possibility. She'd never been looked at with that much heat, even by men she'd undressed in front of. Good God, was he undressing her in his head? Or maybe he was just taking note of her pulse and respiration and pupil dilation and having the same internal debate that she was?
She wanted to take a sip of her water, but her hands were shaking, so she folded them in her lap and tried to figure out which ending to this evening she would regret the least.
mmm
She was sitting there trying to make a rational decision, he realized, when any other woman would have thrown caution to the winds by now. It was so Lisbon that he smiled. And he promised himself that if she decided in his favor, he wouldn't give her a chance to change her mind. He wouldn't even wait for the check; he'd just empty his wallet onto the table and hurry her out to the car. Of course he'd have to let her drive so she would be too distracted to overthink. He could help with the distractions, but he'd have to be careful not to get carried away. Nothing would kill the mood like explaining a single-car accident to SacPD.
Of course, reason might prevail. This was Lisbon, after all. She knew better than anybody how screwed up he was. In fact, as her friend, he'd have to advise her against this if she asked him.
But by God, if she wanted him, he'd use every single trick at his disposal to make it unforgettable. She deserved that. And he could read her like an open bookâif he couldn't give her the best sex of her life, he'd eat one of his shoes.
How long was she going to torture them both? Indecisiveness wasn't a normal Lisbon trait. Dare he put his thumb on the scale, just a little?
"Ask me," he said, in a gravelly voice he barely recognized as his own.
She blinked, startled out of her thoughts. "Ask you what?" she said after a moment, sounding breathless.
"For anything." He held her gaze, willing her to believe him. "If it's in my power to give, it's yours."
Her eyes widened, then narrowed as she processed the disclaimer. Damn, he thought. But he didn't want to make her false promises, and if she gave in to her impulse to ask him to give up on the idea of killing Red John, he couldn't trust himself not to yield to lust and lie to her.
His heart sank as he watched the spark in her eyes turn from desire to anger. "I don't need your charity, Jane."
He wanted to slap himself for his miscalculation. "That is not what I meant. I want this as much as you do. But it has to be your call, Teresa. I don't want you wondering about my motives."
"Too late," she said, but she sounded more sad than angry.
Before he could think of what to say to that, her phone rang. She fished around in her fancy little purse (ah ha, that's where the gun is, he realized) and answered it with, "Hi, Gabe."
Jane caught the waitress' eye and motioned for her to bring the check. His evening was definitely over.
mmm
"So how's the case going?" Mancini asked.
"Looks like it might be pretty straightforward," she replied. "Sorry I had to go. I was really looking forward to dinner."
"You're in luck then. Since we'd already ordered, I had the waiter box up both meals. We can still have our dinner when you're free."
She was touched by his thoughtfulness. It was always nice to date someone who understood the demands of the job. "That sounds great. But I'm afraid I grabbed a little something with the team already. Tomorrow?"
"Sounds good. But if you want to stop by for a drink tonight, I don't have any early meetings or anything." He was trying, and failing, to sound casual. She found his transparency refreshing.
Glancing at Jane, she found him smiling and joking with the waitress. Well, at least she wasn't breaking his heart, she thought sourly. "Sure, I'd love to. I'll just wrap things up here. Be there in half an hour?"
"Looking forward to it," he said cheerfully.
"Me too," she replied. Well, it looked like her night was back on track, she thought as she hung up. It was too bad she wasn't feeling more enthusiastic about it, but once she wasn't sitting across from Jane anymore, she'd be able to put their mutual moment of almost-insanity behind her. It certainly looked like he had.
Jane looked at her, aware that she'd finished her conversation. "I've got this, if you're in a hurry," he offered.
"Thanks. See you tomorrow," was all she trusted herself to say as she slid out of the booth.
mmm
Author's Note: Don't hate me! You didn't think this would be easy, did you? Next chapter is almost done so it should be up tomorrow. Hopefully it will redeem this chapter's ending!